Night is still deep around my home.
Sleeplessness is a strange thing. Too long without rest (4 or 5 days) and your body will begin to shut down, to die. Yet something so essential to life is so easily disturbed. This night, I have ached and hungered; a ravenous insomnia. If I were to lose sleep, I'd prefer it be in a warm embrace. But seeing the touch, hearing the breath, tasting the image . . . I could do worse. And so my whispers echoed in my mind, as I tried to lull her to sleep, so I could find my own. But she won't close her eyes. She knows me, and I am easy to win over.
I am drawn, drawn out upon my damp sheets, sweating in the night air, and I can feel her, her weight upon me, her form next to me, her contours wrapping and entwining themselves about me and I am drawn, drawn deeper, her soft eyes lit with a consuming flame, her mouth slighted parted in a sleepy half smile and her breath, hot and moist and hungry on my chest, my throat, my lips and I am drawn again, helpless as she traces her want like an artist working an empty canvas, traces my shoulders, my tattooed chest, arms, back, traces and takes me in her fingertips and her pouting mouth opens just so, biting, kissing, teasing my lips and I am drawn, drawn into the fury of my need, need to feel her, need to chase her like a wolf running down his prey, to take her slender throat, to overwhelm her, consume her, wash myself in her lifeforce and leave her trembling and helpless, drawn to submission by our inflamed want because I am drawn into her, her brilliant hair wide eyes supple flesh curves hollows sweet taste her scent my god her scent I can smell the life and there is nothing now but her telling me with all her body and no voice that she wants me to
Awake. I am drawn into wide waking by the snowplows outside, and her form fades, like a drawing slowly erased from the page. That was at 3:17AM.
Now I really can't sleep.